WHEN THE 

YOUNG BIRDS GO 



PAULINE B. BARRINGTON 



;'is.r<'^ni.; 



WHEN THE YOUNG BIRDS GO. 

The first prize for one act plays in the Los Angeles 
Drama League Manuscript Play Contest, June, 1915. 



Copyright, 1915 
By Pauline B. Barringlon 



DEC 21 1915 



WHEN THE YOUNG BIRDS GO 



BY 
PAULINE B. BARRINGTON 



C. C. PARKER 
LOS ANGELES. CAL. 






To 

My Daughter 

Deborah 



0.>V 



i^CLD 42724 



PERSONS OF THE PLAY 

William Cort. 

Ann Cort, his wife. 

Laura Cort, their daughter (20 years old). 

Morgan Terry, a young man (28 years old). 

Japanese servant. 

Action takes place one hour before dinner. 



Suddenly 

She sees the bloom of willows far and wide — " 

— Wang Ch'ang-ling. 



WHEN THE YOUNG BIRDS GO. 



(The scene is a living room in a country 
house in the suburbs of Los Angeles. 
At left a fireplace. Before it tli^o 
chairs. At right book shelves and high 
casement rvindow. At hack door lead- 
ing into hall, also a french windoTv open- 
ing into garden. There are chairs, a 
center table and a sofa. A Victrola 
stands in corner. The setting sun streams 
through french rvindorv. There is an 
air of comfort and luxur}) about the 
room.) 

(Laura Cort, a good-looking girl in golf 
clothes, comes in. She throrvs her soft 
hat and sweater on sofa. A Japanese 
servant follorvs wheeling a tea wagon. 
He places it at one side of fireplace.) 
Laura. Mother home, Saito? 
Saito. No, Miss, no. She not home 

yet. (Saito lights lamp under fettle. Ex- 



its.) 



[9] 



Laura. (Sits on sofa. She takes a 
letter from her pocket and reads it. Smiles 
as she reads. Returns the letter sloxvly to if's 
envelope, holding it between her hands, look- 
ing down at it.) Heavenly! Perfectly 
Heavenly! It seems too good to be true. 
But — ^what vs^ill Mother say? (She shakes 
her head dubiously.) 

Saito. (He ushers in Morgan Terr^.) 
Mr. Terry, Miss. (Exits.) 

Laura. (Springs up and welcomes 
Morgan with outstretched hands.) Oh, 
Morg, this is bully! 

Morgan. Lucky to find you. I 
stopped in to make sure you'd go w^ith me to- 
night. (Still holds her hands, swinging them 
to and fro.) 

Laura. Alone ? 

Morgan. Just with me. 

Laura. I don't know whether I can. 
I haven't asked Mother yet. 

Morgan. Why shouldn't she let you? 
The other girls go with the men alone. 

[10] 



Laura. (Drarvs her hands from his 
and goes to the tea table.) I know, but 
if Mother doesn't approve of it. It won't 
make any difference to her what the others 
do. 

Morgan. (Follows her and stands 
hack of her.) Let's try our new dance any- 
way. 

Laura. Oh Goody! (Turns and 
faces him.) 

Morgan. We'll spring it on them at 
the dance tonight. 

Laura. Morgan, I love your suit. 

Morgan. Is that all you love? Can't 
you stretch it a little farther? 

Laura. (She dances atva}) from 
him.) Oh yes, I love your tie too. 

Morgan. (Chases her around table 
before he catches her.) Laura, is your hair 
as soft as it looks? (He puts his hand on 
her head, bends it back ^"^ siviftl^ pisses 
her.) 

Laura. (Pushes Morgan violently 

nil 



awa^ from her.) Oh — how could you? 

Morgan. How could I help it? 
Laura, just one more - - (He follows her as 
she goes to the tea table.) You have jolly 
hair! 

Laura. Come, have some tea. Do 
be sensible. 

Morgan. Just one first. 

Laura. What'd Mother say? Oh. 
Morgan, - please - - (She evades him as he 
tries to put his arms around her. She sits he- 
side the tea table. In her flurried haste she 
drops her letter.) 

Morgan. (Picks up the letter, returns 
it to Laura. He sits on the arm of her chair. 
He leans over her and deliberately draws her 
head back against his shoulder and kisses her 
again.) My little girl. 

Laura. Oh, Morgan, please - - - - 
please - - - You know we oughn't to ! 

Morgan. You didn't do it. I did 
and I'm glad. And besides, why shouldn't 
I? You know, you have me for keeps, 

[12] 



whether you will or no. 

Laura. Sit over there and do be still. 
I have so much to tell you. 

Morgan. (Sits in chair on other side 
of fire.) Who's been writing to you? 

Laura. Geraldine. 

Morgan. Geraldine Gunne? 

Laura. Yes. That's what I want to 
talk to you about. 

Morgan. I hope she and her ideas 
are still safe in New York. 

Laura. You needn't talk in that kind 
of voice. She has done wonders for me. All 
our plans have materialized beyond our fond- 
est dreams. (Holds letter so that he can 
read a phrase.) There! 

Morgan. Piffle! You'll never do 
it. 

Laura. Oh won't I? 

Morgan. Have you told your Mo- 
ther? 

Laura. (Noticeably crestfallen.) 
No. I haven't told Mother yet. You see, 

[13] 



I didn't know myself that it was all settled 
until this afternoon. 

Morgan. (Relieved.) Oh well, 
there is no use crossing that span of concrete 
until we get to it. 

Laura. Mother will make an awful 
fuss. 

Morgan. (Cheerfully.) Yes, I'm 
afraid she will. Believe me, there will be 
some excitement when your intentions are 
made known in the bosom of your adoring 
family. 

Laura. More than intentions. This 
time I'm really in earnest. I think, I'll change 
my name to Laurette, Laura is so ugly. 

Morgan. Let me suggest a change 
you might make in your name. 

Laura. What? 

Morgan. Don't you know? Can't 
you guess? 

Laura. Oh Morgan! When I'm 
talking about the most important decision of 
my life! 

[14] 



Morgan. (Hotly.) Important! And 
I suppose it isn't important for a man to want 
a girl to marry him? Isn't being a wife im- 
portant enough? 

Laura. TTiat depends on the man. 

Morgan. Laura! 

LaUFIA. Don't be cross. Come, let's 
try the new dance if we're going to. 

Morgan. (Starts Vidtrola.) We 
should worry. Come on. 

Laura. (Holding hack.) You do 
think I'm in earnest about this. Don't you, 
Morgan? 

Morgan. (Makes her dance.) Don't 
spoil anything as good as this by arguing. 
(They dance to end of record.) 

Laura. (Fans herself furiously rvith 
her handkerchief.) Wasn't that a perfect 
dream! 

Morgan. (Leans ardently over her.) 
And tonight - - tonight in my little car. The 
wind racing by. The very stars will envy 
me. 

[15] 



Laura. (Troubled.) I'm awfully 
afraid Mother won't let me go alone with 
you, Morgie dear. Now let's try the fox 
trot - - Oh - - Mother - - 
(Mrs, Cort comes in. She is a slender, at- 
tractive "Woman of strong personality, 
who has made the most of her own life 
and taken a vital interest in the lives of 
those about her. She has absolute con- 
fidence in her judgment of what she calls 
**the wise course'' for herself and others 
to follow. She prefers to do all the 
selecting.) 

Laura. Mother! Where'd you come 
from? Morgan and I were trying our new 
dance for the Club, tonight. (She is flurried 
and visibly afraid of her Mother.) 

Morgan. (Shakes hands with Mrs. 
Cort.) How do you do? 

Mrs. Cort. How are you, Morgan? 
How is the dancing? 

Morgan. Fine! Are you and Mr. 
Cort going tonight ? 

[16] 



Mrs. Cort. Yes, for a while. This 

little girl of ours keeps us busy. How did 

you get along with your new dance, Laura ? 

Laura. Pretty well. It's easy with 

Morgan. 

Mrs. Cort. Has your father come 
yet? There he is now. I hear his key. 

Morgan. I must run along. Good- 
bye, Mrs. Cort. See you later, Laura. What 
time shall I stop for you? 
(Mrs. Cort watches them Ifeenly, hut not un- 
kindly as they n>a//f to door. Laura 
and Morgan reach door as Cort 
comes in. He pinches his daughter's 
cheef( lovingly. He shades hands cor- 
dially with Morgan. He goes to Mrs. 
Cort, rvho comes toward him, puts his 
arm around her.) 

Cort. Well, little woman! (Sees 
Morgan is leaving, wallas toward door again.) 
Not going, Morgan? 

Morgan. I must. Sir. See the ball 
game? 

[17] 



CoRT. I tell you that was some game, 
m'boy. 

Morgan. You bet. Isn't that little 
shortstop a pippin? (They exit together into 
hall. Mrs. Cort sits dorvn beside the center 
table. Laura pours her a cup of tea.) 

Laura. Tea, Mother? 

Mrs. Cort. No, dear, I had some at 
Mrs. Day's. 

Laura. Morgan asked me to drive 
to the Club with him tonight. 

Mrs. Cort. Alone? 

Laura. Yes. 

Mrs. Cort. Impossible. 

Laura. (Holds herself in.) Why? 

Mrs. Cort. Are you engaged to 
him? 

Laura. Of course not. What has 
that to do with it? 

Mrs. Cort. Everything. Isn't it 
enough for me to say, it is improper for a 
young girl to drive around the country with 
men unchaperoned ? 

[18] 



Laura. How absurd! I'm going. 
I'm old enough to decide for myself. 

Mrs. Cort. (Goes to Laura, puts her 
arm around her verp gently.) Please, Laura, 
help me when I want to help you. 

Laura. (Pushes her Mother's arm 
off.) Help me! You hate me, I believe. 
You begrudge me every little bit of fun. 

Mrs. Cort. That is foolish. When 
you talk like that it shows the child you are. 

Laura. I'm not a child! I'm twenty 
years old. 

Mrs. Cort. You are my child and 
after all these years, I should know what is 
best for my daughter. You can't guess the 
pitfalls I see, all around you. It seems to me 
a mother must watch over her daughter. 

Laura. (Passionately.) But, that 
continual watching is something awful. 

Mrs. Cort. Why, Laura dear, your 
whole life could be ruined so easily. This 
party seems so innocent and jolly, but, it's the 
little things that make the big difference in the 
end. 

[19] 



Laura. I don't care, I'm old enough 
to decide for myself and I'm going alone with 
Morgan. 

Mrs. Cort. Laura, as long as you 
are under this roof, you shall obey your par- 
ents. Do you hear? 

Laura. (Facing her Mother.) Yes, 
I hear, but I'm going just the same. Even 
if you are my Mother, you are not going to 
keep me home tonight. 

Mrs. Cort. You won't have to stay 
home. You may go with your Father and 
Mother. 

Laura. (On verge of tears, furious- 
ly.) I won't - - - I won't. The other girls 
are driving alone wath men and I'm going too. 
I won't be made a baby of. 

Mrs. Cort. Laura - - - 

Laura. Why can't you treat me as 
though I were grown up? I am, you know. 

Mrs. Cort. (Sadly.) You are still 
a child to me. 

Laura. All the girls of twenty, that 

[20] 



I know, do pretty much as they want to. 

Mrs. CoRT. It doesn't make any dif- 
ference what the rest of the world is doing, 
so long as my conscience is clear, that I am 
doing my duty by my family. 

Laura. Yes, you keep your con- 
science clear at the expense of all my good 

times. I'm - just so tired (Laura bursts 

into tears. She rushes from room, almost 
running against Cort, u>ho returns after seeing 
Morgan off.) 

Cort. Hoity-toity ! What's the mat- 
ter? (Laura exits ivithout answering.) 
(Cort sits dorvn in arm chair on opposite side 
of table from Mrs. Cort. Spreads news- 
paper si orvl\) across knees. He takes out 
spectacles and polishes them. Then looks 
inquiringly at Mrs. Cort.) 
Cort. What's it all about this time, 
Ann? 

Mrs. Cort. The same old story, 
Laura and I cannot agree. 

Cort. I can't understand you two. 

[21] 



Don't you think, you might display a little 

more self-control? 

Mrs. Cort. I haven't any when it 

comes to my struggle with Laura. While I 

am her Mother, she must obey me - - - she 

must. 

(Cori takes up paper and begins to read. 
Mrs. Cort sits staring out before her. 
She gets up suddenly, TvalJ^s around table 
and sits dotpn on the arm of Cort's 
chair. She takes the paper away.) 
Mrs. Cort. No, you can't read yet. 

I have something to say first. 

Cort. Well, be quick. Dinner will 

be ready soon and I must dress first for this 

dance at the Club. 

Mrs. Cort. Yes - - yes - - I only 

want to tell you I have decided to go to 

Europe with Mary Browne. 

Cort. What! (Turns and looks at 

her as though he had not heard correctly.) 
Mrs. Cort. I've made up my mind. 

I must go away. 

[22] 



CORT. And leave me and Laura? 
Ann, are you crazy? 

Mrs. CorT. Never saner in my life. 
(Laura comes to door. She stands there, 

half hidden b}) the curtain. She listens 

unobserved fcp her parents.) 

CoRT. You've never been separated 
from Laura since she was born, 

Mrs. CoRT. Don't you think it about 
time I left her to herself a little - - - after 
what you saw tonight ? 

CoRT. No, I do not. A woman's 
place is in her home, not running about Eu- 
rope alone. 

Mrs. Cort. It won't be easy to go. 
But the opportunity has come just at the right 
time. 

CoRT. If you have no thought for me, 
what about Laura? Don't you think a Moth- 
er's place is beside her growing daughter? 

Mrs. Cort. That's just it. Laura 
is not growing, she is grown. She told me so 
herself this afternoon. We have lived so 

[23] 



closely together, that I didn't realize it. She 
and I are killing the best in each other. I 
have exacted obedience from her without 
allowing her the right to have opinions. We 
can't argue a question out on its merits, with- 
out ending in a scene and my commanding 
her to do as I wish. Bending her wall to 
mine, wounding her pride, killing her spirit. 
Now, it is only a question of vital importance 
or illness draws us together. 

CoRT. As long as she is under my 
roof, she shall be made to obey you. 

Mrs. Cort. (Shakes her head.) 
No, that is not the way. This evening we 
had a scene over her riding alone with a man. 
Among other things, she said, I'd forgotten 
that she had grown up. And she has. It is 
quite true. She should be free to choose, to 
make her own decisions. No one knows it 
better than I. But the minute we are alone 
together and begin to talk, we begin a scene, 
which always ends in my treating her like a 
child and usurping all the authority. I can't 

[24] 



help it. Oh, WiUiam, don't you understand? 
Laura mustn't be as I was with my Mother, 
always under her supervision, without a 
chance ever to be alone or to know herself. 

CoRT. Darned if I do! Know herself! 
Be alone ! Why should she want to be 
alone? 

Mrs. Cort. (Stretches out her hands 
passionately before her.) You men are born 
free. Of course you can't understand. ^ ou 
go and come as you will. While, we wo- 
men, with this precious thing called Life in 
our hands, give it up at last, without ever 
having realized we had it. 

CoRT. What has this got to do with 
your going away? 

Mrs. Cort. The only way Laura 
can find herself, is for me to go away and 
leave her free. Don't you understand, now, 
William? 

(Laura rushes jorrvard to the center of the 
stage. Her parents turn in consterna- 
tion.) 

[25] 



Laura. Oh, Mother, I understand 
- - I do - - - I do! 

Mrs. Cort. Laura!! You!! 

CoRT. Child, this is no place for you. 

Laura. Yes, it is, Father. I never 
dreamed Mother understood it all. I heard 
everything you've said to Dad, so, now I'm 
going to tell you my plans. (Holds up her 
letter.) This letter is from Geraldine Gunne. 

Mrs. Cort. What has she to do with 
your plans? 

Laura. She has gotten me a place in 
*'The Blue Moon" Company. They begin 
rehearsing week after next in New YorL 
So, you see, I am the one who is going away. 

CoRT. You - - my daughter, on the 
stage ! 

Laura. Yes, Dad, I just had to. 
Geraldine and I made our plans, and through 
the Dramatic School we got our chance. 

Mrs. Cort. And you made your 
plans without consulting your parents? 

Laura. And if I had. What en- 

[26] 



couragement would they have given me? 
(Mrs. Cort sits slorvl}) down on the sofa.) 

CoRT. They would have nipped such 
aspirations in the bud, as they intend doing 
now. What can you two be thinking of 
anyway? What's the matter with this home? 

Laura. Nothing, Dad, there never 
was a dearer home. But, tie a dog to his 
house, he will strain and pull at his leash, 
strain to be free. He wants to roam and 
prowl for himself - - be a free dog. No 
matter how beautiful his home. 

Mrs. Cort. Laura, you feel that? 
(Laura turns eagerly toward her Mother.) 

Laura. Yes, Mother, yes, I do. 
Can't you hear the world calling? Can't 
you see the men and women hurrying by, 
beckoning, beckoning. Oh, it is Life - - 
Life - - and I am a part of it. I must go, 
I must. You know. Mother, you know. 

Mrs. Cort. (Slowly.) And I was 
going to free you! 

Laura. Isn't it best for me to free 

[27] 



myself? You could never have left Dad. 
And he vs^ould have surely passed aw^ay with- 
out you. You know, you were doing it for 
me, but my way is the best. 

CoRT. Why caa't you follow your 
Mother's example and marry and settle down, 
like a sensible girl? Let a man take care of 
you. 

Laura. Dad, I'll marry some day, 
but not to be taken care of. 

CORT. You'll change your mind. 

Laura. No, I won't. \ou have 
given me a modern brain, full of ideas for the 
advancement of women. How can I follow 
the old ways? We girls are learning to take 
care of ourselves. 

Mrs. Cort. How can I let you go? 
How can I? 

Laura. Why do women have chil- 
dren, but to let them go out into the world, 
fitted for work? Not to keep them back, by 
strapping a burden of old habits and conven- 
tions to our backs, so we can't lift our heads 

[28] 



to see our own futures. Oh Mother, help 
me. You do understand, for I heard all you 
said to Dad. 

Mrs. Cort. William, I'm going to 
help her! (She goes toT^ahra and takes her 
in her arms,) 

Laura. Mother, you'll let me go? 

Mrs. Cort. Yes, dear, and I begin 
to see my freedom in yours. 

Cort. (Reproachjully.) My little 
girl - - - The apple of my eye ! 

Laura. The apple of your eye has 
hung on this family tree long enough. It's 
going to drop off and roll around a bit. (She 
holds out her hand to her Father.) Come, 
Dad, you too. I couldn't get along without 
you. Say yes. 

Cort. (Puts his arms around them 
both.) Well, when you two form a close 
corporation, what am I alone? (He taf^es 
out his Watch.) How about dinner? If I'm 
to dress for that dance, we'd better go, Ann. 

Mrs. Cort. (Kisses Laura.) Come 
on, William. 

[29] 



CoRT. You'd better hurry and dress, 

little girl. 

Laura. Alright, you blessed lambs, 

ril come in a minute. 

(They exit. Laura rvalf^s slowly to fire, 
looks thoughtfully into it. After a few 
seconds, Morgan Terry comes in with a 
box of flowers in his hand. He goes up 
softly behind Laura. He puts his hands 
over her eyes after dropping the flowers 
with his hat and stick '"^^ ^ chair) 

(She whirls around.) 

Laura. Morgan, where'd you drop 

from? 

Morgan. I brought you these. 

(Ch>es her flowers, violets. Laura takes 
them from box. She buries her face in 
them.) 

Laura. Morgan, you dear! 
Morgan. (Puts his hands on her 

shoulders.) Laura, for you I'd - - - 

Laura. (She puts her hand on his 

coat and pushes him from her.) Listen, I'm 

[30] 



going to have my chance. I'm going to New 
York. And Mother is going to help me go. 
Think of it! (Softly.) She was wonder- 
ful my Mother! 

(Morgan pulls roughly arvay from her.) 

Morgan. And what about me and 
my love for you? Laura, marry me and we 
can find that freedom you talk so much about, 
together. 

Laura. No, dear, I've decided that's 
a thing I must find alone. Then Mor- 
gan - - - 
(Laura hacks toward door, Morgan follows 

fascinated.) 

Morgan. Then, Laura? 

Laura. (Stops a minute in the door- 
TVay.) Then, if you still care, after I've 

made my terms with the world. Then 

Morgan - - - maybe (She exits.) 

(Morgan stands and foo^s at the door. He 

turns, slorvly picks up his hat and stick-) 

Morgan. I wonder if the firm has a 
branch in New York? 

CURTAIN. 

[31] 



